


nobody looks at me the way you do

by buckydarling



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, CREDIT TO DALTON RAPATTONI FOR HIS LOVELY SONG, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, M/M, Musician!Jack, NEWSBIANS IF YOU REALLY REALLY SQUINT, SORT OF???????, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 05:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14206404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckydarling/pseuds/buckydarling
Summary: bad fights and a song that might make it better.





	nobody looks at me the way you do

**Author's Note:**

> this song. reminds me so much of javid i had to write a fic where jack sang it
> 
> ON THAT NOTE: the song in this fic is NOT an original song!! it is The Way You Do by Dalton Rapattoni and it makes me cry and you should all listen to it!!!
> 
> enjoy loves!

David watched with a hollow stomach as more messages came into his answering machine. 

 

**_Missed call from Jack <3 (13)_ **

 

**_Jack <3: davey please pick up_ **

 

**_Jack <3: davey please_ **

 

**_Jack <3: i fucked up i fucked up i’m s o sorry_ **

 

**_Jack <3: let me talk to you. Please_ **

 

**_Jack <3: fuck. _ **

 

**_Missed call from Jack <3 (14)_ **

 

David picked up the phone and opened the conversation, staring at the grey text bubbles that filled the screen. He knew his read receipts were on; he always had them on. He watched, empty eyed, as the little thought bubble appeared that indicated that Jack was typing. \

 

**_Jack <3: fuck davey please talk to me_ **

 

**_Jack <3: it was a stupid fight i said some things i shouldn’t have i’m sorry_ **

 

**_Jack <3: i love you. please. i know you’re mad and you have a right to be but please_ **

 

**_Jack <3: just let me explain_ **

 

**_Jack <3: i love you_ **

 

David swiped to Jack’s contact, removed the heart from the name, and turned off his phone, biting down on his lip to stop the tears he knew would eventually come. 

 

**_Missed call from Jack (15)_ **

 

**_Missed call from Jack (16)_ **

 

**_Missed call from Jack (17)_ **

 

_ __________ _

 

_ “You can’t keep doing this, Jack!” _

 

_ Jack sat down heavy on the couch. “I’ve said I’m sorry, okay? Lay off, I’m fine. Not like it hasn’t happened before.” _

 

_ David huffed. “That’s the problem, Jack! It keeps happening! You can’t sit here and act like working yourself in the studio until you fucking pass out is  _ normal!” 

 

_ Jack shrugged, not meeting David’s eyes. “Dunno, think I’m doing a pretty good job of it right now.” David glared red hot daggers.  _

 

_ “Do  _ not,”  _ he forced out through gritted teeth, “get sarcastic about this.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Do you know how worried I was when you didn’t come home?” _

 

_ Jack rolled his eyes. “Geez, Mom, chill out. I’m fine.” _

 

_ David scoffed. “Right. Sorry for, you know, caring about my boyfriend, and whether or not he’s taking care of himself, and worrying about the fact that this is the fifth time this month he’s passed out in the studio because apparently he doesn’t fucking know  _ how  _ to take care of himself--” _

 

_ “Jesus fucking Christ, stop  _ mothering  _ me!” Jack burst out, shooting to his feet. “Okay? I’m an adult, not some toddler you have to fucking watch over.” _

 

_ David narrowed his eyes, huffing. “Is your head really so far up your  _ ass  _ that you can’t see that this is because I fucking care about you? Seriously? I sit here and I wait and I worry and I call your phone over and fucking over, and then I have to find out you’re okay from fucking Finch because he finds you passed out on the floor?” Davey gave a hysterical little laugh. “Do you know how fucking terrifying it is, Jack, to go through that even once? To not know where you are, to be scared you could be dead in a fucking alleyway somewhere? And here we are after the fifth fucking time it’s happened this month - this  _ month,  _ Jack! How much longer is it going to take you to figure this out before we reach a solution? Because I--” _

 

_ “Jesus,” Jack cut him off, “do you ever fucking know when to stop talking? God, you’re driving me fucking crazy, just  _ shut up  _ for fucking once!” _

 

_ David’s mouth closed and he took a small step back, eyes wide and face pale, and Jack knew he’d fucked up. “Fuck, Davey, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have--” _

 

_ “No.” David’s tone was ice cold. “No, you’re right. Sorry for caring.” _

 

_ Jack hated the beginnings of desperate tears he felt forming in his eyes. “Davey, please, I--” _

 

_ David shook his head. “No. You think you’re better off without me mothering you, Jack?” He crossed his arms. His voice was deadly calm. “Think I’m annoying to be around? Spot’s couch should be a great place for you to get a break from all that.” _

 

_ Jack’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach like a stone. “Davey--” _

 

_ “Out, Jack.”  _

 

_ “Davey--” _

 

_ “Out.” David’s voice wavered just a little on that word, and Jack knew there was no going back. Wordlessly, he pulled on a sweatshirt and grabbed his backpack, trudging to the door and stepping out into the apartment hallway.  _

 

_ The door slammed and then locked behind him, and Jack made it all of one flight of stairs down before he slid down against the wall and cried so hard his body quaked.  _

 

_____________

 

It’d been three weeks since David had seen Jack. Jack called every day. David never listened to the messages. 

 

On Wednesday of week four, Spot Conlon burst into the apartment without knocking and sat down hard at the kitchen table. “What the  _ fuck  _ did you do to my brother?” he hissed. 

 

David, who was standing at the stove making pasta, used to flinch whenever Spot so much as looked in his direction. He wasn’t scared much of him anymore. “Took you three and a half weeks to bother asking?” he asked nonchalantly, stirring the boiling water. “Anyway, why is it my fault?” Spot growled. 

 

“Because he’s hardly left my guest room the past three weeks, he won’t stop fucking  _ crying, _ ” Spot slammed a hand on the table for emphasis, “and he keeps singing stupid fucking sad songs on his guitar. He’s  _ mourning,  _ Dave.” Spot sighed as David stubbornly kept his back turned. 

 

“Look,” Spot admitted quietly, “I know it wasn’t all your fault. I know Jack - hell, I grew up with him. I know how he can be.” David turned slowly to face Spot as he turned off the stove; Spot’s eyes were soft and honest. “But he’s family, and I care about both of you. I just want to know what happened.”

 

Davey sighed, looking down at his feet. “He, uh, he passed out again in the studio, and I kind of freaked out. Jack got real defensive, we both got angry and--” He bit down on his bottom lip, feeling suddenly as if he was going to start crying again. “He let loose some pretty mean stuff. Hit me a little too close to home.” He shrugged, moving to sit down across from Spot. “It just hurt, you know? Only reason I was mad was because he scared the  _ hell  _ out of me,” Davey’s voice broke a little, “and in return for caring I got attacked.” He swiped angrily at his eyes, where tears had begun to escape. Spot reached over and squeezed his arm, a rare physical display of affection and solidarity.

 

“He knows how bad he fucked up,” Spot said. “He wants to fix it.” There was a pause. “He loves you a lot.” David shrugged.

 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “It still hurts.”

 

Spot nodded, then moved to stand from his chair. He paused by the apartment door. “Jackie’s got a gig on Saturday night, at that club.”

 

David nodded. “I remember.” 

 

“He really wants you to be there,” Spot offered. “Just thought I’d let you know.” 

 

David nodded once, to let Spot know he’d heard, and then he was left alone in the apartment again, the pasta forgotten at the stove. 

 

_________

 

“I’m not going.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why would you go? You’re mad at him. This is what he wants.”

 

David stared at his reflection in the mirror, then threw up his hands in exasperation. “But you’re already fucking dressed to go out!”

 

“Wow,” snorted Sarah from where she was sprawled on the couch. “You’ve got some  _ real  _ issues.” David whirled around with a glare; Sarah just smiled innocently and lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. 

 

“I just -  _ gah!”  _ David groaned. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

“I think you should go,” commented Kath, sauntering out of the kitchen with what looked like a bowl of guacamole.

 

“I didn’t ask you,” David mutteredv sarcastically, then did a double take. “Did you use my fucking avocados?”

 

Kath simply shoved a chip in her mouth, blinking innocently. Sarah piped up from the couch again. “I think it couldn’t hurt too much to go, Davey,” she said. “He doesn’t even have to know you were there. Just hide in the back.” 

 

“That…” David started to protest, but then trailed off. Standing hidden in the back actually sounded pretty appealing. He huffed. “Alright. I’ll go.” 

 

Kath cheered around a mouthful of guac. Sarah reached out with a grabby hand, and David rolled his eyes, but he wandered over and squeezed her hand.

 

“You’re gonna be fine,” she reassured him. He smiled softly, and she patted his arm. “Go get ‘em, little bro.” 

 

“I’m two minutes younger than you,” he reminded her with a fond smile, and she grinned sweetly. 

 

“I’m still older. Now go! You want to be fashionably late, not miss the show.”

 

_________

 

David stood outside the club for almost five minutes before convincing himself to go in. 

 

He ducked through the crowds of people, weaving his way over to stand in the shadows in the back. He knew Jack couldn’t see him back here; David had done his fair share of helping Jack set up for other gigs and open mic nights at this club, and this back corner where he stood now was the best for hiding. 

 

Jack was tuning up between songs; he played a set list of mostly acoustic covers, but every so often he’d throw in an original song. David crossed his arms and listened as Jack leaned forward into the mic.

 

“Hi again, everyone, and, uh, thanks for coming out tonight. Next up is a cover of ‘Jackie and Wilson’ by Hozier, if you haven’t heard this one check it out.”

 

David frowned. This wasn’t the Jack he usually saw at gigs; Performance Jack was exuberant, excited, happy to be on stage and happy to sing. This Jack was muted, formal, almost stiff, and even from here David could see the bags under his eyes. He felt a twinge of guilt in his gut, but he shook it off, leaning back against the wall as Jack sang.

 

No matter what kind of funk he was in, there was no denying that Jack had a gorgeous voice; it was obvious that he loved to sing, and he was  _ good.  _ ‘Jackie and Wilson’ was usually a bit faster-paced than what Jack was playing now, but somehow he still injected the soul that David loved about the original version of the song, getting the whole club into it. 

 

Still, as he played through his set, David couldn’t help but continue to notice that the light normally in Jack’s eyes when he sang wasn’t there that night. 

 

Spot sat in a corner booth with Race and some people they knew from class; they couldn’t see David either, and he didn’t see anyone else he knew there. He was quickly growing antsy, feeling all of a sudden very unwelcome and very out of place. He was the reason Jack was upset; hell, Jack probably didn’t want him here anyway. He wasn’t doing anything except hiding in the shadows. Shifting, he turned towards the club door, intending to sneak out and maybe go grab food from a nearby diner when Jack spoke into the mic. 

 

“Alright, everyone, my last song for tonight’s set is actually gonna be an original. A new one, in fact.” The crowd cheered; Jack was somewhat of a regular at this club, and people kept coming back for his music. 

 

David froze, turning and leaning back against the wall. 

 

Jack smiled weakly, adjusting on his stool as he shifted his guitar strap. “So, uh, some backstory for you guys! You all are about to get to know me pretty well,” he joked, earning a laugh from the crowd. “So, um, I’ve been dating this pretty fantastic guy for a while now - almost four years. But a few weeks ago we got into a pretty big fight.”

 

David stared at the stage, wide-eyed and paralyzed. The crowd  _ awwed  _ with sympathy, and Jack shrugged. “I said some things I shouldn’t have,” he continued, looking down at his lap, “and we actually haven’t spoken in a few weeks. I, uh, I messed up pretty bad.” He visibly swallowed on stage, all of a sudden looking extremely vulnerable and small, and David felt his stomach clench. 

 

“So I don’t know if I can make things right,” Jack said into the mic. “I said some things that might’ve made him think I didn’t love him, so I wrote this song about how it’s actually the exact opposite.” He laughed. “I’m crazy about him.” Jack looked up, and even though he knew Jack couldn’t see him, Davey shrunk further into the shadows. “I asked him to be here tonight,” Jack explained, “ and I don’t know if he is. But if you are here -” Jack broke off. 

 

“Well, you know who you are,” he finished thickly. “This is for you. I’m sorry.”

 

David felt like he couldn’t breathe right all of a sudden. He stood frozen to his spot as Jack began to play.

 

_ “Wide awake, lights down low. We’re surrounded, and we’re on our own,”  _ he sang softly.  _ “It took a storm to make these flowers grow; but you dragged me out of the rain.”  _

 

David unconsciously took a small step forward. 

 

_ “Picnic blankets laid out in the park,”  _ Jack continued, sounding wistful.  _ “Watching eighties movies in the dark. And I thought, I swear, he hung the stars; and I hoped you felt the same.”  _

 

David’s breath caught a little in his chest. It almost didn’t register, that Jack was talking about  _ him.  _ For the first time that night, Jack looked at peace; his face was calm, eyes trained easily on the strings of his guitar as he sang. 

 

That had been their first date, David remembered with a small smile; Jack had taken him to see a Central Park outdoor screening of  _ The Breakfast Club.  _ They’d laid together on the blanket on their stomachs, side by side; David had focused intensely on the screen, too nervous to make any moves, until Jack, always the braver of the two of them, had reached down and taken his hand. They’d shared their first kiss that night when Jack had walked David home, only this time it was him, not Jack, who leaned in and made the first move. 

 

Ignoring the pang in his chest at the happy memory, David focused back on Jack’s voice as he went into the chorus. 

 

_ “And I know, and you know,”  _ Jack sang into the microphone, his strumming picking up the tempo,  _ “that I’ll sing about you ‘till my face turns blue. And I know, and you know, that nobody looks at me the way you do.”  _

 

David almost gasped at the not-so-subtle reference to Jack’s passing out in the studio, the incident that had started this whole mess. He should have been mad; he should have stormed out in a huff, angry at Jack for being so flippant as to make a joke. But David found he could do nothing except stifle a smile and step forward a little more, barely in the shadows now, mesmerized by Jack’s voice as he went into the second verse. 

 

_ “My head gets cloudy,”  _ Jack sang, his voice getting soft again,  _ “when you leave; the world turns foggy, and I can’t see. _ ” David’s breath caught in his throat again, and he felt the beginnings of tears spring to his eyes as Jack continued to sing.  _ “But I’ve lived with this since I was seventeen; baby, come help me, get me out of this haze.”  _

 

David felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Jack had never bared his feelings like this. He was always the cocky one, always sure of himself, taking the lead on everything they did. He wasn’t vulnerable, didn’t like asking for help; yet here he was, baring his soul, and in the strangest way David felt like he was meeting Jack all over again and falling in love. 

 

He took another step forward into the light, hiding in the back behind a crowd of people. He sniffled, swiping at a tear that escaped down his face, focusing in again as Jack finished another round of the chorus and launched into the bridge. Jack was completely into the music, eyes closed, swaying on the stool, body moving as he strummed the guitar. 

 

_ “I’ve lived without for for too long,”  _ he sang,  _ “And I refuse to do it again. I’ve thought about it since you’ve been gone, and I’m tired of waiting; you’re amazing.” _ Jack launched into the instrumental, and David pushed through crowds along the back wall of the club, trying to get a better view. He knew that if Jack were to look up, he’d see David; he didn’t care. Jack started on another belting version of the chorus.

 

_ “Well I know, and you know, that I’ll sing about you ‘till my face turns blue. And I know, and you know, that nobody looks at me the way you do.”  _ Jack looked up suddenly, and as if guided by magic, his eyes locked with David’s across the room. 

 

David was crying openly at this point, silent tears streaming down his cheeks and a hand covering his mouth. Some in the crowd were simply giving him weird looks; others had made the connection that David was who Jack was singing to, and anxiously watched to see what would happen. None of it mattered; everything had disappeared except for Jack. 

 

Jack’s eyes were wide, and his voice was soft as he sang the last verse, his gaze never leaving David’s.  _ “Yeah I know, and you know: nobody looks at me the way you do.” _

 

The club went silent for a moment before people began to applaud. It was thunderous, roaring, but Jack barely seemed to hear. “Thanks for coming out tonight, folks,” he managed to stammer into the mic before he put his guitar down and leapt off the stage and forced his way through the crowd towards David. Everything seemed to move in slow motion until Jack reached him at last, breathing hard and looking on the verge of tears himself. 

 

“Davey, I--” he started, only to be cut off as David grabbed him by the front of his shirt and crushed their lips together in a kiss that took his breath away. Jack gave a shaky sigh, winding both arms around Davey’s waist and pulling him closer. David’s hands came up to cradle Jack’s face, one hand curling in the hairs at the back of his neck. 

 

This kiss felt different from any of the other ones they had ever shared. Maybe it was the four-week separation, but kissing Jack felt more like  _ home  _ and  _ safety  _ than anything David had ever experienced. Everything about the man he’d been in love with since high school felt familiar and completely new at the same time, like they were rediscovering each other, and David never wanted it to end. 

 

Eventually they became aware of the hollers and cheers of the people in the club around them, and they broke apart for air, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. “I love you,” David gasped out so that only Jack could hear. “I love you so fucking much.”

 

Jack let out a small noise, holding him tighter. “I’m so fucking sorry, Dave,” he whispered. “What I said - I didn’t mean it, you didn’t deserve to hear that, not from me and not from anyone.” David shook his head. 

 

“It’s alright,” he responded. “We both did wrong.” He rubbed a slow circle on the back of Jack’s neck with his thumb. “I just - you’re too important to me. I can’t lose you. I was too stubborn to see it before.”

 

“God, I love you so much,” Jack breathed, kissing David again quickly before pulling back and offering a hand. “Wanna get out of here?” he asked, and David grinned before lacing their fingers together and holding on tight. 

 

They raced down the streets of New York hand in hand like they were teenagers again, laughing with exhilaration and stopping to pin each other against walls and kiss until they couldn’t breathe, and David decided that he’d never been happier in his entire life. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> AGAIN: NOT AN ORIGINAL SONG. THE WAY YOU DO BY DALTON RAPATTONI
> 
> kudos and comments !! make me weep for joy!!
> 
> tumblr: hispanicjackkelly


End file.
